Priceless Aspects of Life
by Avalon0823
Summary: Hi, my alias is Avalon, and this is my second story I'm publishing. Please don't judge too harshly on it, since I know I'm just a 6th grader and I'm not as experienced as many other fantastic authors on this website. I hope you would enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. By the way, I did not experience this, even though it says 'Personal Narrative.'


Personal Experience: Priceless Aspects of Life

My name is Avalon. I might as well be the unluckiest person in the whole world. That's because I am an unpopular girl at Apricot Middle School. My parents don't let me wear makeup, not even blush, which just adds a small rosy glow to my cheeks. It almost seems natural, the same exact color my face turns when I'm shy or embarrassed.

Neither my grades nor my athletic skills are exceptional, and my parents have too much of a high expectation for me. My dad is a university soccer coach, and when he sees my grades on a physical education unit, he simply sighs and says, "Never did I dream that this would be the result of my daughter." This is a painful way of telling me that he's utterly disappointed at me. My mother is a chemistry teacher in Apricot Middle School. She teaches me, and she isn't satisfied at my chemistry scores compared to the other kids. "So, another C+ on your exams. Only Felicia, Margaret, and Jim had a lower score than you, in a class of 30 students. Impressive, just magnificent." I don't have any other choice than to hang my head at my failure. You see, I have the worst luck in the world. There's no rebuttal to that.

I was walking to school. My feet dragged as I went. A perfect day to feel depressed. Report cards were due. I was expecting another 'Avalon never tries her best during physical education classes, when she is completely aware that I judge by effort, not ability. If she opens her mind to the subject, she might shine' from Coach I-forgot-her-name. I decided to take another route to school. A soft constant jingling of coins was ringing next to me.

I didn't care to look. Tears were streaming down my eyes and into my nostrils. The jingle stopped. "Why are you crying?" a small voice inquired. I looked down. A girl my age but abnormally scrawny wearing a ripped t-shirt and tattered shorts was looking at me with her watery blue eyes, with a plastic cup with a few coins inside it. "Nothing, it's not your business!" I screamed at her instinctively. When I saw that sad expression on her face, I immediately regretted saying. I just quickly changed the subject. "Why are you here? In a couple of minutes, school starts."

"I don't go to school," the girl answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "What about your parents?" I asked, shocked. "Well, who knows? I was like three when I was introduced to this street, and I've been here forever. Now I'm… what? Yeah, I guess I'm eleven." "Me too, I'm eleven. But didn't your parents come with you? And… you call this street your house?" I was truly dumbfounded, for I have never imagined such harsh conditions on a girl just like me. "No idea where my parents are. And this I hope it's not my house forever." She replied. "Who cooks you dinner?" I asked. "Oh, the trashcan right next to be is full of new things to eat every day. And you know, I collect coins from passing people who feel pity for me… they drop a penny or so, and if I keep saving, I'll have a dollar. That would be enough to buy a simple meal, like a fun dip or a fruit roll-up. Or perhaps a potato or a carrot. Depends on my mood, I guess." I was horrified. Was this fate, put on this girl?

I reached into my pocket. I found two fruit roll-ups my mom packed me to eat during morning recess. I found a wad of receipts and change that I've never considered important. But here was this girl, clutching on to every penny as if it was worth her life. My heart was crying, my mind was crying, for her. I dug out a clutter of pennies, nickels, dimes, quarters, and even half-dollars from my pocket, which seemed to be drooping from the weight, and dropped it in her cup. She looked at me, amazed, as if she couldn't believe that it was all for her. "Is this mine? Should I keep it for you until you come home from school?" she whispered, as if this was a million dollars, wide-eyed like a Panda. "All yours. Completely yours," I said with a forced smile through my infinite look of pity. "Thank you! There must be like 5 dollars total! That's a fortune!" she cried through a shower of happiness and joy. She looked at me as if I was this wonderful goddess. Her happiness was my happiness. I felt as if I finally did something that mattered in this world. I was just like, "It's just some change. No need to thank me." She just sat there, looking as if this was the first time she smiled in the 8 years she's been living on this street. That was when I came back to my senses. I took one glimpse at my watch and realized that I only had 2 minutes left until the morning class bell rang. "Sorry, I'd love to talk more with you, but I've got to run. I have a block more to go, and I think I'll be late," I screamed as I sprinted away, looking back at her. She nodded.

I was one minute late to chemistry class. My mother just gave me a stern glare. If only she had known what I was up to. Actually, I didn't want her to know. She might not approve of my friendship with a "hobo." That was when I realized that I didn't even know that girl's name. All I remembered was that look of gratefulness when I handed her a few coins, and the injustice that has been placed upon her.

The rest of the day just dragged on. I had to hear a few dozen 'Avalon stop daydreaming's in gym class, and for the rest of the classes, which didn't really matter much. All I was thinking about was if the world was more unfair to the girl or me. Sure, I hated my life, and had no one to support me in school, since the most popular girl hated me and all that, but I had a family. Was family more important than school life? Well, she didn't have a school life either. I felt a pang of jealousy. She didn't have to deal with this lousy school life. But then I felt pity for her because she had to figure out a way of living out of other people's trash. It was really complicated. And when I received my report care at the end of the day, I didn't even take a look at it. I wasn't even thinking of how to hide my grades from my parents.

After school, I ran to Subway and bought two sandwiches. One for me, one for her. Then I ran like a lightning bolt towards her, and sat next to her, handing her the sandwich. Her eyes retrieved the twinkle I believe she lost a few years ago. Without hesitation, I asked her, "What's your name?" She replied, "Avalon." Startled, I stuttered, "But I'm Avalon, too." "Maybe we were meant for each other," she said brightly. "Quite possibly," I nodded. And then I gave the change I got from Subway. She smiled and said, "You are a friend… you are, right?" "Right, your friend," I replied.

For a long time, 3 hours and 24 minutes exactly, we shared jokes and tales of hardship. This was the first time I heard a burst of laughter coming from my friend. Her wish was to attend school, for once. I told her that it was bad news. I wanted to skip school and stay with her for one day only. She said it wasn't going to be pleasant, especially the meals. We exchanged secrets. We trusted each other. Yet I've just known her for one day. When the sun went down, we said our good-byes. "You'll come back tomorrow, right?" she asked hopefully. "Most definitely," I told her.

I trudged home. My backpack with my "unacceptable" but usual report card seemed to weigh down on me like an elephant. My dad demanded, "Why are you so late?" My mom held out her hand expectantly, with the dreaded words spewing out of her mouth like lava, "Report card." I wanted to whine, I wanted to argue, I wanted to scream, I wanted to kick. But I knew that the other Avalon didn't have parents to whine, argue, scream, and kick at. And if she had parents, she would be ever so grateful. "I was talking to Avalon," I told my dad. He shook his head, as if it was the silliest thing he'd ever heard, talking to someone. Turns out that he thought I was talking to myself. And I just handed over my report card. As much as I hated those report card days, family was priceless. My family was the most valuable thing in the world for me, as valuable as my friendship with the other Avalon. That moment I realized that I wasn't the unluckiest person in the world. There were worst conditions out there. And I had everything a girl could possibly wish for… family, love, a true friend, and basic needs.

My name is Avalon. I might as well be the luckiest person in the whole world. Quite possibly.


End file.
